


Ribbons

by lockedin221b



Series: Tied Up With String [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Bottom John, Bottoming from the Top, Christmas, Consent, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Sherlock, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Lingerie, M/M, Riding, Sexual Content, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Top Sherlock, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockedin221b/pseuds/lockedin221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>whybenedict's request: lingerie, bondage, and power bottom John (with Sherlock gifted to him by Mycroft)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ribbons

**Author's Note:**

> I might take one or two more requests on tumblr for Christmas bondage

John was not at all pleased to see Mycroft sitting in Sherlock’s chair when he walked through the door on Christmas Eve, particularly after having spent the last few hours trying not to beat down violent shoppers in a last minute shopping run.

“Happy Christmas,” John muttered as he hung up his jacket.

“And to you. I’ll be leaving then.”

John turned around in confusion as Mycroft rose from the chair. “Stopped by only to grace us with your presence?”

Mycroft gave him a mildly disdainful look. “It was entirely his idea. I would have rung you, but he insisted on waiting.”

“What are you on about?”

“My absurd brother.” Mycroft walked past him and opened the door John had just closed. “I can’t say I’m particularly fond of his peculiarities. However, I am grateful your patience with him far exceeds my own. Happy Christmas, John.”

For a moment, John stood still and utterly baffled. His lack of thought was interrupted by Sherlock’s voice from the bedroom, “John, are you home?”

“Yeah,” he called back and closed the door. He took off his shoes and brought the groceries to the kitchen.

“Has Mycroft left?” Sherlock called while John put things away.

“Yes, Sherlock, it’s safe to come out.”

“I wasn’t avoiding him.”

John rolled his eyes. “Of course you weren’t. He’s gone; you can come out now.”

“Actually, I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” John shut the fridge and strode back to the bedroom.

“Can’t. I’m rather tied up.”

“What do you mean you’re- Oh.” John stopped dead, hand still on the doorknob, staring at picture on the bed.

Sherlock lay on his side, head turned up to the door. The rest of him was more or less immobilised by several pieces of wide, gaudy gold ribbon, each tied in an obnoxiously large bow. There was one around Sherlock’s ankles, under his knees, halfway up his thighs and around his torso, around his arms and across his chest, and the last and smallest around his wrists and hands. The result was folded and wrapped boyfriend.

“What could you possibly have done to piss Mycroft off this much?”

Sherlock frowned. “Nothing.”

“Wait, this was your idea?”

“Of course it was.” Sherlock’s expression turned instantly into one of salacious invitation. It should have looked ridiculous with him in that state; instead, it was incredibly arousing. “Happy Christmas, John.”

It took John a solid ten seconds at least to think of anything to say. “This is your gift to me? You?”

Sherlock gave a little nod, still giving John an incredibly lewd gaze.

“You are one cheap bastard.” John shut the door and began pulling off his jumper and vest.

“I was going for romantic.”

“This isn’t romance,” John said as he tossed his clothes aside and began fussing with his trousers. “This is seduction.”

“Sufficient for my intentions.”

“And what exactly are your intentions?”

“For you to use me.”

John stopped short of pulling down his pants. “Say again?”

Sherlock lowered his voice an absurd amount to repeat, “Use me.”

John finished undressed and approached the side of the bed. “Sherlock-”

“You and I both know I dread buying presents. However, I did want to provide you with some sort of holiday gratification. What better gratification than sex? Of course, typical sex would hardly be in, as they say, ‘the holiday spirit,’ so I thought it best to-”

John pressed his fingers against Sherlock’s mouth and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s lovely. You’re lovely. Ridiculous, but lovely.”

Sherlock opened his mouth wide to take John’s fingers into his mouth, and he began sucking.

“And horny.”

Sherlock licked the tips before pulling his lips away. “I’ve been like this over an hour. I didn’t expect you to be so long.”

John rubbed his thumb over the corner of Sherlock’s mouth. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.” He pressed his hand against Sherlock’s shoulder and started to push him onto his back.

“Wait! You’ll ruin the bow before you’ve even seen it.”

John peered over Sherlock’s side to see yet another ribbon low on his hips, the bow of which covered his arse. John chuckled.

“Start with the one over my chest. Then the one on my thighs.”

John followed Sherlock’s instructions, depositing the loose ribbons on the floor.

Once he was able, Sherlock stretched his arms and legs out. “Much better. I was beginning to cramp.”

John wasn’t listening. He was, for a second time, gawking. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Sherlock didn’t answer. He stretched his arms over his head to put himself, and his clothing, on display. He wore a deep red women’s lace chemise that didn’t even reach below his hips. Stretched over his hipbones, however, as well as his groin, was a pair of sheer lace knickers of the same shade of red. Overlapping the waistband was the ribbon that ended in the bow covering his arse.

“Oh my god.” John covered his face with one hand. While he stood there, trying to get his brain to function half decently again, he felt Sherlock’s ribbon-covered hands brush his arm. He looked up and found Sherlock watching him intently.

“I didn’t want it to be boring.”

John released a breathy laugh. “It’s definitely not boring.”

“Have I put you off?”

“No.” John leaned down and kissed him. “You haven’t put me off.” He pressed his mouth against Sherlock’s, at the same time running a hand up Sherlock’s side beneath the chemise. “You ludicrous man.”

“I thought you liked that about me.”

“Like I said, you haven’t put me off.” John bit Sherlock’s bottom lip and grinned. “So how do you want to do this?”

“It’s up to you, but before you decide.” Sherlock prodded John lightly in the ribs with his fingertips.

John removed the ribbon around Sherlock’s hands, discovering that the one around his wrists was a separate piece, leaving him still bound.

Sherlock opened his hands and revealed a plastic box.

John took it and turned it over in his own hand. Not a box. “Sherlock.”

“Now the one in back.”

John made quick work of the ribbon around Sherlock’s waist. Once it was discarded, he peeled down the waistband of the knickers. Protruding from Sherlock’s arse was a small cord, taped to the inside of his thigh. John looked at the controller in his hand. “Definitely seduction.”

Sherlock chuckled deep in his chest.

John pulled the knickers back up and finally eased Sherlock onto his back. He straddled Sherlock’s waist and gazed down at the other man. “So.”

“How would you like to use your Christmas gift, Dr. Watson?”

“Mm, depends.”

Sherlock raised his brow. “On?”

“If I turn around, think you can stretch me?”

Sherlock tapped his fingers together. “Very much so.”

John retrieved the lube from the nightstand drawer and poured some out between Sherlock’s palms and fingers. He turned around and laid down on Sherlock’s legs, which were still securely tied together with ribbons, though he was now crushing the bows. He sighed deep with pleasure as Sherlock ran one finger over his hole and began teasing until his muscles relaxed and he could easily push his fingertip inside. John rested his cheek against Sherlock’s shins, trailing his fingers up and down Sherlock’s calf between the ribbon under his knees and the one around his ankles.

“Don’t forget the other part of your gift,” Sherlock said as he pushed past the second knuckle.

“Oh, I haven’t.” John kissed his shin. “I want you focused on this, though.”

“I’m quite adept at multitasking.”

John hummed against Sherlock’s skin before replying, “Your ability to multitask drops dramatically when you’ve got something rubbing against your prostate.”

There was a pause, during which Sherlock curled his finger against John’s own prostate, dragging forth a soft moan. “Fair enough. How long do you want me to do this?”

“Mm, you could do this forever.”

“I could, or certainly until you come. However, it seems a waste of my efforts.”

John laughed softly. “Well, you’re the one with the view. You tell me when I’m ready.”

Sherlock gave a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, you’ve been ready for a full minute at least.”

“God you’re good at this. Later I’m going to ask you to really do it until I come.”

“I will be more than happy to oblige.” Sherlock pulled his finger out.

John sat up and looked down at the crushed bows. “Oops.”

“No matter. Now, while I thoroughly enjoy fingering you, I’m afraid that wasn’t quite enough to get me hard.”

John picked up the control and waved it over his shoulder. “Another reason I deigned to wait.” He switched on the vibrator.

Sherlock gasped, his pelvis pushing up as his torso arched slightly beneath John. When a few seconds had passed, Sherlock said through a clenched jaw, “Are you just going to sit there and watch?”

“That’s the idea.” And watch he did. He watched the shape of Sherlock’s prick thicken and harden under the lace, watched the sweat surface on his skin, the tension in his muscles. “Looks ready.”

“I’m not a bloody Christmas ham.”

“Aren’t you though?” John looked over his shoulder grinning. Sherlock tried to roll his eyes in exasperation, but there was a shadow of a smile in his lips. John switched off the vibrator, for the moment, and Sherlock’s body relaxed. It didn’t last long, as John pushed down the waistband of the knickers, hooking them under Sherlock’s bollocks. He turned around and leaned down to kiss Sherlock. When Sherlock’s hands became awkwardly trapped between them, John grinned with an idea.

“What?”

“You’ll find out.” He quieted any retort with his lips and tongue, and Sherlock offered no resistance. When John pulled back up, he ran his hands once more up Sherlock’s sides, pushing the chemise halfway up his torso. “Absolutely ridiculous,” he murmured. He reached behind him, taking Sherlock’s cock in hand, and bore down. “Hands.”

Sherlock offered his hands, still messed with lube. John positioned them around his cock and retrieved one of the discarded ribbons. He secured Sherlock’s hands and picked up the remote again. Sherlock licked his lips.

“Keep your hands there.”

Sherlock nodded, silent with anticipation.

John flipped the vibrator on again, and Sherlock gave a shallow up into him. John gasped, dropping the remote on the bed and leaning back to brace himself on Sherlock’s thighs. “Christ. Can you bend your legs a bit?”

Sherlock obliged, giving them both better balance. “John,” he huffed.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“You’re such a sap when you’re aroused.”

“Only with you.” Sherlock smiled.

John shifted his weight onto his shins. He leaned forward, splaying his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders. “Ready?”

“I believe I already mentioned I’d been waiting over an hour before you came home.”

John smirked. “You’d sound a lot more pretentious if you weren’t short of breath from the vibrator shoved against your prostate.”

“That isn’t the only sensation causing my shortness of breath.”

“Oh?” John gave a slow roll of his hips. As he hoped, the slide of his prick between Sherlock’s immobilised hands felt fantastic on top of Sherlock’s cock inside him.

“Quite,” Sherlock said, voice strained.

John gave it a few more slow rolls before picking up his pace into something more—gratifying. He watched Sherlock come undone, his carefully constructed control peel away to expose unadulterated wantonness. The harder John rode him, the more debauched he looked. His voice, first lewd cursing, dissolved into wordless moans, interrupted only sparingly with John’s name.

“John!” he finally cried. “I—I can’t. I’m going to—John!”

“About time,” John panted. “I—was afraid—I’d—come—first.”

Sherlock’s eyes widened.

John grinned and made his undulations even shallower and more forceful. “I want—you—to come—in me.”

“John,” Sherlock gasped.

“Do it. Come—Sherlock, come.”

Sherlock came with a sharp cry in the back of his throat, pushing so hard up into John that John fell forward. Had he not already been bracing himself on Sherlock, he would have crushed Sherlock’s hands and his own cock between them, and that would not have been pleasant with his prick more or less trapped where it was.

As Sherlock shuddered and jerked through his orgasm, filling John with ejaculate, John squeezed it all out of him, finally letting loose his own withheld climax. With his cock where it was, he came in several lines everywhere from Sherlock’s mouth and chin, down his rumpled chemise, to his partly exposed stomach. Before he had even finished coming, John was giggling though his gasps at the sight.


End file.
